


The Chronicle of Swords and Spells

by FandomFanatic51



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arthur probably is too, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Dragonlord Merlin (Merlin), F/M, Good Mordred (Merlin), Good Morgana (Merlin), King Merlin (Merlin), Lancelot (Merlin) Lives, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), also i haven't finished the show so my knowledge of the merlin fandom is a little rudimentary, and they are probably a little OOC as well, idk man, ok here we go, ok let's write this shit, ok so the knights are really nice to merlin, so please don't think much any plotholes that might occur
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:20:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28377609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FandomFanatic51/pseuds/FandomFanatic51
Summary: Trying to rule is a troubling thing. Ever since Merlin had been whisked away to a different kingdom by a strange, but all in all nice mage, with no one but Gwaine and Mordred as familiar faces, he had been poked and preened at. The only problem was that Merlin had absolutely no idea why. Something about being the son of the late Crown Prince Balinor? Since when was the supposedly Last Dragonlord a Prince? And why does Merlin have to rule in his stead; surely there must be someone else more suited for the job?
Relationships: Balinor/Hunith (Merlin), Gwen & Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 94
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

“Merlin! Where _are_ you?” Said manservant cam bustling around the corner, right as Arthur yelled his need for the person. Unsurprisingly, considering Merlin’s clumsiness, it was to be expected that he would run into the young king. Arthur grounded from the floor on which he laid, Merlin struggling to get off of him. As the blonde sat up, he gave his servant a mock glare and hoisted himself off of the stone.

Straightening his clothes, he gave the raven-haired man a long look before solemnly motioning for him to follow. Merlin’s face morphed into a confused expression at Arthur’s seriousness, but he asked no questions as he followed the king into the council chambers.

* * *

The lords all sat around the table, awaiting their sovereign. As Arthur sat down, the lords and he began to discuss what was happening within the kingdom; Merlin soon zoned out, only paying attention to refill Arthur’s cup.

An hour into a heated debate surrounding the topic of the state of the roads in the villages, two guards bustled into the room, hastily bowing before going to Arthur and whispering in his ear. The King nodded after a moment and the guards exited the room. Moments later, the doors spread open to reveal three weather-beaten people draped in scarves and blankets for the cold weather outside. One had blonde hair, while another had brown. They stood huddled together, looking warily around at the interior of the castle.

“Why is it that you have come?” one of the lords spoke up. The traveler on the right stepped forward to speak, his red hair gleaming like the banners on the walls.

“Thank you for granting us an audience, my Lord,” he said, giving a respectful half-bow to Arthur, who nodded his head back as he gestured for the man to speak. “We have come to you today to tell you that there has been a dragon attacking our village. We seek aid in getting rid of the beast, and bringing peace back to our small town.” At the word ‘dragon,’ whispers broke out among the lords of the court. Merlin’s head snapped up, eyes wide, and now fully engaged in the conversation taking place. His mind whirled.

There were only two dragons in existence as far as he knew, and he had commanded one of them to stay away from Camelot. The other one thought, he did not know where it was. Merlin had only called it from its egg, and after that, something had happened and the dragon was gone. The dragon attacking must have that one, Aithusa, as he was the only other dragon.

“A dragon, you say? Are you sure?” The traveler’s heads all bobbed up and down rapidly, anxious to get a response. Arthur looked at the table for a moment, making his decision. The travelers looked down at their feet, awaiting a response.

“I would be glad to grant this request. I know from experience what devastation a dragon can cause, and I do not wish that on anyone,” The travelers breathed a sigh of relief, the shoulders slumping due to released tension. “I and my most trusted knights will depart in a day’s time; meanwhile would you like to stay in the castle until we leave, or do you have somewhere you are able to take shelter in? This is an especially harsh winter.” The same red-haired man stepped forward.

“We were prepared to make do with our tents, but if you would welcome us, we would be honored to stay here.” Arthur nodded and motioned to Merlin.

“My manservant will show you to your rooms. We will depart at first light.” And with that, the council was dismissed and the lords scattered to do their various tasks, while Merlin put on a smile and led the travelers to the guest chambers. As he led them down the halls, Merlin could hear their hushed whispering behind him. The brown-haired traveler spoke first, the redhead speaking after him.

_“Is he the one? The one we were supposed to find?”_

_“How should I know, Lariven! We’ve only just met the man, how can we be sure he has the aptitude?”_ They rounded the corner, and Merlin soaked up every word he could. These people were interesting, and it felt like they were looking for something that wasn’t a dragonslayer. The blonde spoke behind him, unaware that someone was listening in on their conversation.

_“He is, Tridus, I can tell!”_

_“We can report back to Sir Sarion when we’re alone, Dryder.”_ Tridus hissed, and with that, the whispering stopped and Merlin had reached the rooms. He turned to them and gave them a polite smile.

“Please, enjoy your stay and let us know if there is anything that we can do to help.” Tridus gave him a scrutinizing look before nodding and heading into his room, Lariven and Dryder following suit. Merin stood outside the door a moment longer, stuck in thought, but after hearing his name yelled from a different part of the castle, he removed his feet from their fixed position on the floor and ran, not wanting to deal with an annoyed Arthur at the moment, all the while thinking about how he was going to stop the dragon from attacking anyone else without Arthur knowing.

* * *

Arthur groaned. He heard someone open the drapes, letting the view of the area below be seen from his room, but it was way too early. There was no way _Merlin_ had actually gotten him up on time. He looked up from his bed to see that, surprisingly, his manservant had _indeed_ gotten him up at the right time, for once.

“Who are you and what have you done with Merlin?” he mumbled, still too tired to properly function as of yet. Merlin gave him a weird face but said nothing. “ _He_ never gets me up on time so who are _you_?” Arthur tiredly sat up, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes like a small child rather than a king. Merlin smirked as he laid out Arthur’s breakfast.

“Oh don’t worry, _sire_ , I just have him tied up to a tree outside the borders. You’ll see him again soon.” Arthur shook his head at the tone encased in _sire_ and opened his mouth to speak when he looked out the window. In the distance were some rays of light peeking barely over the horizon. His eyes widened and he jumped out of bed.

“Okay, so maybe you are Merlin because I’m still going to be late if you keep bumbling around! Help me get dressed, idiot!” Merlin smiled and shook his head as he grabbed Arthur’s things, but he stayed uncharacteristically quiet. Arthur didn’t think much of it as his chainmail and armor came on. He grabbed his sword, tying it around his waist, and stuffed a roll of bread in his mouth. Arthur and Merlin ran out of his chambers, bounding down the halls as inconspicuous as a king could, the servants in the corridors smiling slightly when they saw.

They slowed to a stop in the courtyard, seeing all the horses had been brought out and the knights all getting prepared to leave. Tridus, Dryder, and Lariven, the three travelers, were out there as well, grabbing onto the reins of their horses and hoisting themselves up. Gwaine stopped atop his horse and turned around to smirk at the king and his manservant.

“Good morning, Princess! Did you sleep well?” Arthur made a noncommittal grunt as he mounted his horse. Gwaine nodded knowingly and turned to Merlin, his smirk changing to a small smile.

“Merlin, mate.”

“Gwaine. You reckon we’ll be out there long?” The knight shrugged.

“I don’t know. I mean, Princess over there has already killed one dragon, so he shouldn’t be entirely incompetent.” Merlin and Gwaine laughed, the former getting on top of his horse and spurring it along to catch up with the rest of the group.

They rode in relative silence, making small chatter here and there. Merlin and gwaine laughed at jokes, while the three travelers at the front still talked quietly to themselves, looking around warily as if waiting for someone to show up. Of course, nobody else took note of this and they just assumed that they were getting fidgety from being so close to where the dragon attacked their village.

The group had been riding for a good amount of time when the travelers stopped. Tridus dismounted his horse, red hair gleaming in the light that came down through the trees. And he knelt. Only for a moment, but that must have been a signal because all of a sudden the bushes in front of the traveling group rustled. The knights’ hands moved instinctively towards their swords, ready to attack whatever came out of the forest.

The leaves parted, everybody holding their breath in suspense, to reveal an older looking man, shrouded by a forest green cloak, aiding him in his ability to blend into his surroundings. Slightly wrinkled hands moved up to pull the hood off of his face and allowed the group to see his rather unusual purple eyes, along with a scar running from his left eyebrow down to his chin. Brown hair with patches of gray completed the look. The strange man walked all the way up to Arthur’s horse, giving him a small, but respectful bow.

“Thank you for coming here, Arthur Pendragon. It was of the utmost importance that you did.” The man looked at Arthur expectantly, waiting for him to speak. It was not long before the young king did.

“Who are you, and why have we stopped? Where is the dragon you people spoke of?” He turned to address the three travelers, but they seemed to have all but vanished.

“Ah! Pardon me for not introducing myself,” the man had a twinkle in his eye as if he had not forgotten, but was playing along. “My name is Sir Sarion, First-rate Mage of Forel. As for why you are here, there is no dragon.” Whispers broke out along the knights of ‘sorcerer’ and ‘magic’. Hands settled on swords, ready to strike down the man if Arthur had them do it. Arthur moved to speak, his face hardening, but Sir Sarion motioned that he was going to keep talking. “I hate to use illusions and deceit, but it was important that I get you somewhere I could speak privately.”

“And why did you want to meet, _sorcerer_? What was so important that you need to lure us out here into the woods to talk?” The king spat out the word ‘sorcerer’ barely managing to keep from jumping and binding the man. Sarion smiled knowingly.

“With all due respect, it was not _you_ who I wished to speak with,” and with that he turned, facing someone else. “You are the spitting image of your father, did you know? Have you ever met him?”

Merlin’s breath hitched, and try as he might, his brain could not figure out how to correctly breathe again.

* * *

"Y-you knew my father?" Merlin had barely managed to get the simple sentence. Of course, the word 'Balinor' had yet to be mentioned, but Merlin couldn't- _wouldn't_ \- pass up the opportunity to speak with someone who might have known his father.

Shakily he got down from his horse upon which he was sat, and slowly he walked to the mage. Merlin stopped right in front of him and looked at Sarion from head to toe as if he were examining him to see if he was lying. "Merlin! Get back here!" More than half of the knights protested at him being this close to a sorcerer, while Arthur just looked shocked. After a moment he regained the ability to think and he quickly asked Sarion why he needed to speak to Merlin of all people.

"I mean, the dolt can barely hold an interesting conversation, and when he does manage to get a coherent sentence out of his mouth he starts to ramble!" Sarion smiled, slight wrinkles appearing on his face.

"I need his help because-"

 _"Stop talking. If you can hear this, then you need to stop talking. Arthur doesn't know about my magic, or who my father was. So if it has anything to do with that, then please just shut up."_ Merlin winced slightly, not wanting to have sounded so harsh with the words that were sounding in Sarion’s head. But at the moment his sense of self-preservation far outweighed his desire to be nice. Thankfully, Sarion stopped talking for a moment, reconsidering his word choice.

"It is a matter that concerns Merlin and his father, nothing more. If you would allow it, I would be grateful if I could spend a few minutes alone with him to discuss things." Arthur looked blankly at the two people on the ground. After a moment he looked only at Merlin.

"You can't be serious! You're actually going along with this?" Merlin only ran his hand through his hair, looking a little distressed.

"He says he knew my father, Arthur. I can’t pass up this opportunity.” Arthur sighed.

“We camp here for tonight.”

* * *

The tent that Sarion brought had been set up, the fire made, dinner cooked, and now was the time when Merlin and Sarion were to speak. Silently, the mage of Forel motioned to the second-largest tent, climbing inside as did Merlin.

“Swîgen.” The simple word was uttered by Sarion and suddenly all the noise from outside of the tent vanished. “Simple silencing spell, nothing to be worried about,” he explained to Merlin, who was a little shocked at magic being used so close to the king. Nodding shakily, he sat down on one of the stools provided, while the sorcerer sat down on the other. Taking a deep breath, Sarion began to speak.

“First, I would just like to say that your father, Balinor, and I, well, we used to be the best of friends,” Merlin breathed a sigh of relief that Sarion was, in fact, talking of _his_ father. “You might not know this, but your father was from Forel, where I hail as well. He had one older sister and one younger brother... It saddened us greatly when we had heard of Balinor’s passing. He was very beloved in our kingdom. Might I ask how he died?” Merlin sighed.

“It was when Kilgarrah was attacking Camelot. Arthur and I had to go find the last Dragonlord and ask him to help us. We found him in a cave, where he had been for a long time, I’m guessing,” Merlin took a deep breath. “We were on our way back when we got attacked, and my father took a sword blow meant for me. He died in my arms, and I told him I was his son. My father only lived long enough to tell me that a dragon’s heart is on his right, not his left. And I kind of figured out that a Dragonlord’s powers are passed down from father to son.” Sarion nodded at this, putting his head in his hands.

“Very good. I should have expected your knowledge to be a little… rudimentary. Well, you should know that, as the name suggests, that the Dragonlords are considered nobility.” The young warlock sucked in a breath, moving to stand up from his chair. “My father’s family are noblemen in Forel?” Sarion’s face had morphed into a grimace. He sighed, moving to stand as well. The inside of the tent leaked with the retreating light. The blue and silver colors of Forel, Merlin guessed, bathed everything inside the tent a cool shade of blue.

“To be more exact, your father was the Forelian Crown Prince.”

“What?!” Merlin sputtered, lowering his voice before remembering Sarion had put a silencing spell on the tent. For a second his mind wandered and he thought about what the people outside the structure thought they were talking about. “Prince, like Prince Arthur! As in ‘going to eventually be king’ prince?”

“Yes,” Sarion heaved a breath, sitting back down to begin his tale. “King Carlisle, Balinor’s father- your grandfather- was not very fond of him, preferring his younger son over his eldest. Although Balinor was quite beloved by everyone else, especially the servants and people working inside the castle. Carlisle would have rather seen Lyvian, your uncle, on the throne rather than your father. Therefore, he had Balinor banished and his death faked when he was eighteen.”

“One moment,” Merlin interrupted. His hands were shaking and he paced around nervously in the tent, grateful that the door flap was closed all the way so that no one could see his nervousness. “What does this have to do with me, again?” His voice had raised a few octaves, as though he already had a reason in mind and he was hoping it wasn’t true.

“I was getting to that part. Lyvian was crowned king after your grandfather died, and he ruled until the beginning of the Purge. In the year it started, your uncle had gone to protect some of his people from being persecuted and burned at the stake, near the border of Forel. There was a skirmish, and Lyvian was mortally wounded, but his men had managed to get his back to the palace. With his dying breath, he had relinquished his crown to his older sister, Nineve. It was unorthodox, but at the time nobody knew yet that your father had been banished and not killed. She was crowned Queen of Forel the following week. She was a beloved ruler. She had married to a nobleman from a different kingdom, and about a year ago they discovered that Queen Nineve was with child.” Merlin interrupted once again, though he had been soaking up all the information he had been given.

“So why have you come to me? If you have a King and Queen and an heir, why are you sitting here talking to me about this?” The mage sighed, running his hands through his hair as though it were physically painful for him to talk about this.

“Well, a little more than a month ago, Queen Nineve went into labor, and she passed away. The child, who had been named Cavall, without his mother could not survive, and he died the following week. Queen Nineve’s husband, the King, had been so distraught and tormented by grief that he had killed himself to see his family again.” Merlin shook his head, not seeming to put all the pieces together. “ Merlin, since both of our leaders, are dead, and Lyvian and Nineve both died childlessly, the throne would have been passed back down to Balinor, your father.” Once again, Sarion stood up and started pacing around the tent.

“Merlin, you must understand that there’s no easy way to say this.”

“Then say it! It surely can’t be that big of something?” Still, the warlock did not seem to grasp what he was being told. The anticipation was getting to him and as he walked around his side of the tent, one would be able to see his hands shaking. What Sarion said next had him haphazardly sitting back down into his chair, frozen.

“Merlin, you are the only person alive with a direct and legitimate claim to the Forelian throne.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this first chapter! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin blanched. _What did he just say?_

"Sorry, what?" Sarion gave a grim smile.

"You're the heir to the throne of Forel, Merlin. And I would not be asking this if I knew that there was another option, but there is none." Merlin at this point had been wringing his hands together, and Sarion briefly wondered if the new prince thought he was wringing a cloth. "I understand that this might be a bit of a shock-"

"No!" Merlin's outburst had Sarion flinching, and the warlock had walked right up to him, putting his nose in the Forelian's face. His tone of voice had been bordering on the edge of hysterical for a few sentences, but now it seemed that Merlin was terrified. "Being told that I was _Emrys-_ that was a shock. Being told that I was _the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the land-_ that was a shock. Being told that I was a _dragonlord_ was a shock, as well as being told that I had a destiny that would affect _everyone_ alive. But what you are telling me right now? That I am some kind of estranged prince of a foreign kingdom? _This is fucking ridiculous._ "

If it were not for the silencing spell over the tent, all the knights and Arthur would have surely come in as a result of Merlin's screaming. But alas, the spell was there, and now Merlin had to decide what to do. After a moment, the initial shock had faded, and he was left with a sense of 'what do I do now?' He sighed, a wary look on his face. Sarion moved to speak.

"Merlin-" 

"I'm not a king! Arthur is! He's the one who was raised to sit at court meetings and resolve issues in a kingdom, not me! I wasn't raised to do anything! I'm just a servant to an idiot clotpole who I just happen to share my destiny with! I can't do this- whatever _'_ _this'_ is- Sarion! I don't know a thing about running a kingdom; if I take up the throne I could bring the place to the ground!" Merlin's voice quivered. His knee was bouncing up and down uncontrollably, and he kept shaking his head as if he didn't want to believe it.

"And yet if you don't, it will most certainly fall." Sarion's hand ran through his brown hair. As he looked around the tent, Merlin was hit by just how purple the mage's eyes were. He had never seen any that color before, and he doubted he would ever again.

"So what am I supposed to do, Sarion?"

"Well, you should expect my opinion to be rather biased, but I would say that you should think things through." Sarion moved to crouch next to Merlin, putting a hand on the warlock's shoulder. "Process the information and tell me later what you think of it. And although I do not wish to make your choice any more difficult, being without a leader for a month has caused the city to be quite restless. People are getting nervous and the lords and ladies of the court are going to start fighting amongst themselves to gain control." Merlin put his head in his hands, and at that moment he wished he could crawl on the ground and curl into a fetal position as if that would solve all his problems. He groaned.

"Ugh, why is it always _me?_ " Sarion shrugged, unable to give a straightforward answer. He stood up from where he was crouching on the ground and went to pour himself a glass of wine. He motioned to Merlin, offering some, but the boy just shook his head no.

"I do not know. But from what experience I have had with you, I think it is safe to say that you would make a great king, should you decide to take up the throne. Any land would be lucky to have you as their sovereign. Also, it may be a surprise to know that in Forel, magic is used freely and openly, though you may have guessed by my title. People are not persecuted, and anyone who wishes to learn may do so. We do have druids in our ranks, as well as living in our towns. Your druid friend Mordred may be interested in going, as well." Merlin looked up, shocked. A kingdom where magic is legal? Who had ever heard of such a thing? His mind wandered to Mordred. The boy had gone through so much in his lifetime, he deserved to know peace.

"You use magic openly? That's... Would it be too much to ask of you if I could stay in here for a short while? I'd like to have a moment alone." Sarion nodded, and he moved to go outside.

"Of course not. Take all the time you need, Merlin. I do not wish this strain on anyone. Once you are finished thinking, I would be most anxious to hear your final decision."

* * *

_I can't go. My destiny is with Arthur and I can't protect his sorry arse from five days away, can I? ...But there are other people who need me more than him. Arthur can take care of himself, though I would never admit it to him; there are people out there who can't. People who I could save. People who fall under my control. Oh, gods, I'm sitting here worrying about Arthur when there's an entire kingdom that is going to fall to the ground if I don't do something about it! Get your act together, Merlin! This kingdom, Forel-_ my _kingdom- is leaderless and on the brink of destruction. And there's magic! No pyres or guillotines! I know that I can't rule anything, but if I don't try then surely it'll be something I think about for the rest of my life. I have the chance to save something here; we'll never know what could've happened if I don't take it._

Merlin looked up from where he sat inside the tent. He rubbed his eyes, much like Arthur had done that morning. He took a deep breath. He thought things through a logical way. He got up, stretching his limbs. He went to the tent opening and stuck his head out.

"Gwaine? Could you come in here for a second?" The knight looked up from his spot at the fire. After looking around for a moment to make sure there was no danger nearby, he nodded his head and approached the tent.

"Sure, mate... What's wrong? Don't tell me that you're finally confessing to the fact that you have magic." Merlin guessed that Gwaine had taken one look at his puffy eyes (as he had tried to keep tears in earlier) and decided that he was going to reveal his secret.

"Wha-what? I'm sorry?" For the third or fourth time that night, Merlin went still. How on _Earth_ did Gwaine of all people know about his magic? Merlin shook his head, once again grateful for the silencing spell.

"You have magic," Gwaine stated simply. He said it as though the magic-hating King of Camelot were _not_ sitting right outside of the tent and as though it didn't matter to him in the slightest.

"How did you know?"

"Well, it wasn't very hard to figure out that 'Courage,' 'Strength,' and 'Magic' thing, now was it? Arthur is just too blind and arrogant to connect the dots." Merlin shook his head and weakly smiled. He sat back in one of the chairs and gestured for his friend to do the same.

"Ha, yeah. You're not, I don't know, _mad_ or anything?" Gwaine merely shrugged in a Gwaine-ish way. A shark-like grin had appeared on his face when he stepped in the tent, and it had not dissipated. If anything, it had grown knowing that Merlin confessed to having magic.

"How could I be? My best friend can use magic! Do you know how cool that is?" 

"But I lied to you!" Clearly, Merlin was having a hard time understanding that one of his best friends did not despise him for having magic and lying about it. His head moved left and right, making the raven locks swish back and forth in a tight formation. Gwaine meanwhile, had noticed the wine and had decided to pour himself a copious amount, and now he was lounging back in the chair provided by the Forelian knight.

"Yeah, well, there are people who have done worse, and you know it. So, anyway, I'm guessing that's not the reason you called me in here?" Merlin shook his head once again, confirming the statement. He decided to let out all of his secrets in one fell swoop.

"My father was the last dragonlord, and he died, so that makes _me_ a dragonlord, and he was also the estranged prince of the magical kingdom of Forel, and his siblings have died childless so now the throne falls to me." He took a breath and prepared to say more. "Also, I have a destiny in which I am the most powerful warlock to walk the land and I'm supposed to help Arthur- the Once and Future King- restore peace and magic to Albion. And in that prophecy slash destiny thing, the druids call me Emrys." He sighed and leaned back in his seat. Gwaine whistled lowly.

"...Bloody hell," he said.

"Yeah, I know. So what do you think I should do?"

"Become king and take me with you." Merlin did a double-take.

"That was a quick decision. Why would I take you with me, Gwaine?" The rogue knight stood up, seemingly filled with passion or something like that; the narrator couldn't function correctly at 11:00 at night.

"Because, while Princess out there has proved to me that there are nobles worth dying for, if it came down to it, I would rather do anything for you than him. Also, you're my only friend, so in that case, you're kinda obligated to take me with you, or else I'd get bored and go on a tavern spree." The warlock chuckled, grateful for some humor.

"Alright, then. You say that I should go off, forgo my destiny, take you with me, and become the king?" He clarified. Gwaine shook his head up and down enthusiastically.

"Yes. Sounds like a plan. When are we leaving?"

"Whoa, whoa! I can't just run off into the mist like that! I have to tell Arthur!" Merlin protested. The knight gave him a look that said 'seriously?'

"What? You're going to tell Arthur 'Mr. I-really-don't-like-it-when-people-lie-to-me-and-I-also-really-don't-like-magic' Pendragon?" 

Merlin gave a weak thumbs up. They both knew the risks of telling Arthur that not only did his manservant have magic, but he was also born with it. And his father was a prince who is now dead, so now Merlin has a claim to the throne of a magical kingdom. And Merlin was a dragonlord. And he was supposed to be the most powerful magic-wielder to ever walk the earth or something like that. So yeah, no biggie.

"I need to. I won't be able to think of anything else if I go and don't tell him why. And I think that we should bring Mordred, too. Sarion said that there are druids living in Forel, and I want him to be able to use his magic freely after all this time in Camelot." Merlin, at this point, was standing up and pacing the tent. Gwaine knew all too well what was going to happen.

"...Alright, then," he said slowly. The knight started walking out of the tent, uncertain as to if he should be leaving. "Should I go tell Mordred while you break the news to Princess?"

"...Yeah. Wish me luck. And as much as I don't want to say this, I fear that when I tell him, he's going to overreact. And something bad might happen. So let's just say that if I don't come out of this tent five minutes after he leaves, then it's safe to say that you should bring Sarion and come in to make sure everything is fine."

* * *

"Merlin? What is this about? Is it something that the sorcerer said to you?" Arthur warily walked inside the tent, shoulders tense, and ready for an attack. When he saw that his manservant was all alone in there, however, the tension broke and he gave an easy smile.

"Ok Arthur. I have no idea how to break this to you easily so I'm just going to do it the same way I did it to Gwaine. My father was Balinor, and he died, which makes _me_ a dragonlord, and he was also the estranged prince of the magical kingdom of Forel. You've probably never heard of it though, seeing as Uther got rid of anything that was magic or related to magic. My father's siblings have died childless so now the throne falls to me. Also, I have a destiny in which I am the most powerful warlock to walk the land and I'm supposed to help you- the Once and Future King- restore peace and magic to Albion. And in that stupid destiny thing, the druids call me Emrys."

Throughout the entirety of Merlin's speech, Arthur's face had been getting redder and redder. After the first revelation, he had started pacing around in the tent, not noticing how terrified his friend had looked while talking. His hand, which had previously been resting on his sword had dropped when he entered the tent. Now however he held it in a vice-like grip and was preparing to strike at any moment.

"You _lied_ to me," he growled. "You've been betraying me all these years! Tell me, when were you going to finally do the deed and kill me to take over Camelot?" Merlin had started to say 'Arthur, no, you don't understand-' but the king cut him off, too angry to think coherently.

"Why should I believe a word you say? I thought that you were my friend! When did you start learning magic?"

"I never learned, Arthur! I was born with it!" Merlin pleaded desperately.

"That's impossible! And when were you going to take the Forelian throne and wage war on my kingdom?" Arthur had been making for the door, but Merlin's eyes were closed, trying to hold back tears.

"I never knew that my father was a prince until Sarion told me! Please, you have to understand!"

"I don't need to listen to the likes of you, _sorcerer_." Merlin opened his eyes, which widened at the sight of Arthur leaving. He rushed forward, grabbing Arthur by the shoulder in an effort to make him stay.

"Arthur, wait!-" The king, in his rage, had pulled out a dagger. With strength he didn't know he had, Arthur had turned around and promptly stabbed Merlin in the gut, cutting off the end of his sentence. Merlin saw the exact moment Arthur realized what he had done, and the next thing he knew, he was limp on the ground with Arthur's knife right beside him.

* * *

Gwaine was now worried. Arthur had come out of the tent looking furious, drawing his sword and muttering something about cutting some trees. Soon, five minutes had passed, and Gwaine had hastily run over to the Forelian, who was arranging things on his horse. "Sir Sarion, Merlin had told me to come into the tent if he didn't come out after five minutes. I fear something has happened." The mage looked up, a newfound worry in his eyes for his young friend. He quickly nodded his head.

"Of course, Sir Knight. Lead the way."

The two knights had been expecting a lot of things, but nothing could have prepared them for the sight of Merlin on the ground, curled up and sobbing quietly, bleeding out with a knife engraved with the Pendragon crest laying beside him innocently, covered in blood.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is a little shorter than the other two! I really just wanted to get this out before writer's block hit me!

Merlin gasped, grasping at the hole in his side. Blood was pouring out freely now, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he thought that Gwaine should be here any moment now. It must have hit him what Arthur had done, because suddenly tears started spilling out of Merlin's eyes, blinding him. He could feel himself drifting away, and he curled up into a ball, wanting to seem as small as possible. He could vaguely remember seeing Gwaine and Sarion rushing into the tent and laying their eyes on his pitiful form. From there it was black.

* * *

Gwaine gasped, his eyes raking over Merlin's cowering body. Anger piled up inside of him, but he quickly smothered it for now. Beside him, Sarion too had taken a sharp intake of breath, the sight of his new sovereign on the ground shocking him.

"Can you heal him?" Gwaine asked the knight. In response to the question, Sarion ran over to Merlin, quickly pulling up his shirt to examine the damage. Both knights once again gasped at the number of scars covering the unconscious man's chest, but they didn't focus on that at the moment. The wound was much more serious than it had looked before, and Sarion's eyes flashed gold as he muttered something.

"What was that for?"

"You'll see." As Sarion spoke the words, Gwaine could see Merlin's skin knitting itself back together. He watched, mesmerized, as the blood stopped rolling and the last drops dripped onto the floor of the tent.

"The damage is too severe for me to heal permanently. I'm a battlemage, not a healer. If we could get him back to Forel, there are many people there who would be able to help him. He'll die if we don't." Gwaine nodded, deep in thought. _This was all Arthur's fault!_ The anger came back up, and Gwaine whipped himself around and stormed out of the tent. Surprised at his actions, Percival had dropped his bowl onto the floor.

" _Where's Arthur?_ " he nearly growled. Leon, even, was a bit scared of him at the moment, but he answered anyway.

"He went that way." Gwaine roughly nodded his thanks, and as he went off into the forest in the direction that Leon had pointed, he could be heard muttering under his breath, most notably saying things like 'I'm gonna kill him.' He stormed into the woods, following Arthurs trail deeper and deeper. As he followed the train he could start seeing signs of someone using a sword to cut down leaves and branches. There were slash marks on tree trunks and mangled roots. Eventually, in the distance, he could hear someone whacking at trees and muttering.

Gwaine stepped into a clear to see Arthur hacking down one of the trees. The image of Merlin, curled on the ground and covered in blood flashed before his eyes, and with renewed anger, he rushed over to Arthur, knocking him down and pulling out his sword. Arthur looked up at him, baffled.

"Gwaine! What are you doing here?" He tried unsuccessfully to push the knight off of him, but to no avail.

"Why did you do it?"

"What? Why did I do what?" Gwaine pointed his sword at Arthur's neck.

"Why did you stab Merlin, you _fucking i_ _mbecile?_ " Arthur's breathing became more intense, and his eyes hardened.

"He's a _sorcerer, Gwaine_. He lied to me for years and betrayed me by learning magic. If you know that I stabbed him then you should have finished him off!" Gwaine growled, low in his throat and more menacing than Arthur had ever seen him before. The sword at his throat increased in pressure.

"He's my _friend._ And I would never finish him off. I had _thought_ that you wouldn't either. Clearly, I was wrong." Arthur huffed, and with one last shove, he pushed Gwaine off of him. He drew his sword.

"You say that as if he didn't lie to me for years! How many times do you reckon he's used magic right in front of our noses?" Gwaine stood up, growling again, and brushing his cape aside. "You should have gutted him while you had the chance!" Those simple words struck something inside of Gwaine, and he stood up, tall and proud.

"If this is the way you are going to act," he said. "then I will no longer walk with Camelot's crest on my back. You are a coward for fearing things that you don't understand. Uther has poisoned your mind, and I will not act towards you with respect anymore until you have rethought your _stupid, idiotic_ decisions. When it comes down to it, I'd rather have Merlin as my king than _you._ " And with that, the rogue tore his cape off of his shoulders. He threw it up in the air and walked away, as the shocked Pendragon helplessly watched the fabric float to the ground.

* * *

Mordred came out of nowhere when Gwaine came walking back into the camp. The druid took one look at the knight and panicked a little bit.

"Gwaine, what's happened? Why aren't you wearing your cape? Where's Merlin?" Gwaine stopped walking and looked around the camp to see everyone sitting by the fire. He sighed, the anger now having worn off and being replaced by weariness. Gwaine put his arm around Mordred's shoulder and led him into the tent. He gasped at the sight of Merling unconscious on the floor, and one look at the dagger still next to him told Mordred who had stabbed his friend. Similar to Gwaine, anger had risen in his chest and he moved to go back outside. Gwaine held him back though, saying that he had already talked with Arthur, and given up his knighthood. Mordred struggled for a second more, then he relaxed.

"We need to leave soon. Merlin won't make it much longer if we stay here." Sarion's voice cut through the air, breaking the silence. "If you wish to avoid panic among your knights, I suggest that you go tell them why we are leaving." The two knights sighed, and begrudgingly Gwaine went back outside. He walked over to the fire and sat down next to Percival. Then he softly spoke.

"If I could have your attention, please." The Knights of the Round Table stopped what they were all respectively doing and looked at Gwaine. "Merlin, Mordred, and I are leaving with Sir Sarion in the morning- please! Before you go in there and kill him." He held up a hand to stop them. The mention of the sorcerer alone had caused tensions to rise. "In his conversation with Merlin, it was revealed that Merlin's father was Balinor, the Last Dragonlord. Merlin is also in a druidic prophecy which states that he is the most powerful warlock to walk the land and that he will help Arthur restore peace and magic to the land of Albion. So yes, Merlin can do magic, but he was born with it. His father, Balinor, was also the estranged Crown Prince of the magical kingdom of Forel, and currently, the place is without a leader. The throne has landed at Merlin's feet, and he decided to go there and take it. Merlin told this to Arthur, and the Princess may have overreacted and stabbed Merlin in the stomach."

Throughout his speech, hands had gone to the grips of their swords, but at the end, when Merlin's injury was revealed, they all dropped immediately. Percival had said something along the lines of 'Emrys?' and after the initial shock had worn off, all the knights had clamored to go inside the tent and see Merlin. When Gwaine didn't let them in, they demanded to know if he was alright. Mordred's head poked through the tent flaps.

"Sarion says it's alright to come in; just don't be shocked," he stated quietly. The knights all lined up at that, and they walked into the tent. At the sight of Merlin, _still_ , laying on the ground, the tension grew. Leon shook his head, on one hand, understanding why Arthur had done what he did, but on the other had angry at him for that. Merlin had been nothing but loyal to Camelot since he arrived.

* * *

"How could you let this happen?"

"Why would Arthur do this?"

"Why did Merlin not trust us enough to tell us?"

The knights had been in the tent, asking Sarion questions, most of which he could not answer when Arthur had finally come back from whatever he was doing. The people in the tent, save for Sarion, Gwaine, and Merlin, of course, went outside to greet him. Arthur was surprised to be met with icy glares and cold stares as his warriors came out of the tent.

"So, Arthur," Elyan spoke up, his voice even and detached. "After all that Merlin has done for you and Camelot, he decides to tell you that he just found out that he is a prince, and that he was born with magic. And guess what? You thank him with a knife to the stomach." The king froze but said nothing. No other words were exchanged.

Then came a shock as Mordred walked forward, sticking his nose in Arthur’s face. With a flourish, he tore off his cape, held it in front of Arthur, and with a flash of golden eyes, lit the cape on fire. He dropped the flaming fabric in front of Arthur, at his feet. The knight whispered in Arthur's ear, and the knights could hear him say "I'm a Druid; the same one that you helped escape from Camelot." Mordred walked back into the tent. Arthur's hand had once again gone to his sword, and he was contemplating just leaving it there at that point.

The knights, already having found out that their other friend was a warlock, and a dragonlord, and a prince, were expecting something weird to happen so it came as only a mild surprise when their friend revealed himself as a Druid.

"Anyone else?" Arthur asked, already having lost two knights in the span of a couple of hours. There were some uneasy glances and uncertain faces, but no one else dared to move. "Good. We leave in the morning, seeing as there's no danger here. Be ready to go." And with that, the conversation was over.

-

Inside the tent, when most of the travelers had gone to sleep, Sarion spoke with Gwaine and Mordred.

"His wound will almost certainly reopen on the way to Forel. Sir Gwaine-"

"I'm not a knight of Camelot anymore. You can just call me Gwaine," the rogue pointed out. Mordred went to clarify, too.

"And I burned my cape in front of Arthur. The same goes for me; you can call me Mordred." Sarion nodded.

"Alright, then. Gwaine, I will need you up from riding the horse attached to the wagon. Either Mordred or I will need to be in the cart with Merlin, making sure that his cut does not reopen. The person not in the cart can ride another horse."

"Excuse me, but would it be acceptable for me to ride my own horse, or bring him with me, at least? I don't want to part with him, and I'd also like to think of it as a last jab at Arthur." Gwaine interrupted. Sarion nodded again.

"Very well, Gwaine. You may each ride your respective horses and the person not in the cart may lead them. It will be a bumpy ride, and the terrain is not forgiving."

* * *

The morning came. Before anyone else had gotten up, Gwaine, Mordred, and Sarion had woken and put Merlin on the cart that was attached to the spare horse. Gwaine and Mordred had mounted their steeds, and Sarion had begun to prepare everything for the journey to Forel when Percival and Elyan had woken up. They looked confused for a second as to why their friends were leaving, but then the events of the previous night came back to them. Their faces filled with worry and they quietly got up to say goodbye. There were no long conversations about anything, just simple 'take cares' and 'good lucks.' And before anyone could believe it, the four were off, heading for a magical kingdom where their comatose friend would soon be king.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So sorry that I haven't updated this in a few days; a lot has been on my mind and I've had a little bit of writer's block... not to mention New Years', so yeah! Really sorry and I'll try to get more consistent with these updates!

Merlin tossed and turned. He was sweating, mumbling things in his unconscious state, and burning up. Thrice already his wound had reopened and Mordred, riding in the cart with his friend, had tried to heal it the best he could. Gwaine was in the front, leading the charge and going wherever Sarion instructed him to. The mage had not been lying when he said that terrain was a challenge to pass. The group had crossed streams and rivers, boulders and mountains, all in an attempt to get Merlin safely to Forel.

"How much longer will it take to get there?" Mordred asked. "When we were at the camp you said three days; we've been riding for two."

"Not much longer, Mordred." Sarion had been anxious ever since they had left the camp, and the two Camlotians did not know whether it was because his new sovereign was dying, or because of something else. Branches had fallen, bushes had rustled, and Gwaine had been convinced that the sounds were not made by an animal.

* * *

Gwaine was right.

Bandits were _definitely not_ animals.

There seemed to be twenty that dropped out of nowhere, as silent as a fox. All the while this had happened, Sarion had not been bothered to look behind him. He was pulled to the ground with a yelp, and he quickly drew his sword. At the sound of him falling Mordred and Gwaine had stopped and jumped to help Sarion. They too drew their swords, and the two parties set out dueling.

The fight lasted forever. The knights had moved in front of the cart to protect Merlin. No matter how many bandits they took down, more seemed to appear out of nowhere. That also could have just been the weariness setting in from the harsh traveling.

Mordred's mind had slipped for one second, and one bandit took his chance, swiping at his lower leg and earning Mordred a nasty gash. He let out a painful scream, and Gwaine rushed to help his friend. He quickly checked the wound and then turned back around on pure instinct to block an attack. Mordred, seeing Sarion use both his sword and spells to defend himself, abandoned his blade and started using his magic.

-

They were tired.

Gwaine and Mordred were on the ground, still fighting. Sarion had moved on top of the cart to get closer to Merlin, blocking with his sword and attacking with his magic. A yelp let out in the forest at Gwaine's arm was slashed, and he went down. Sarion started to get overwhelmed, his attacks getting slower and messy. He was attacked from behind, one bandit knocking him over the head with the hilt of his sword. The bandits advanced on them, getting ready to finish them off. All hope was lost.

* * *

Light.

That was all there was.

It blinded the bandits, but not the three injured. They shielded their eyes, all the same, watching as their perpetrators stumbled back, slashing wildly at thin air. One bandit was knocked backward into a tree, going unconscious. Then another. And another. The bandit's numbers started to dwindle. Sarion, Gwaine, and Mordred watched mesmerized as the last bandit was knocked out, and they looked around to see who had helped them.

They had turned around in time to see Merlin sitting up, breathing heavily. His right hand was still outstretched, his left clutching his side, where blood was starting to spill. They could see the whites of his eye roll back and they watched as he fell unceremoniously onto his back, hands going limp.

The silence faded, and Mordred and Sarion rushed to heal him for the fourth time. Their footsteps crunched the leaves under them, filling the forest with noise. Merlin's blood had, at this point, spilled over most of the cart. Sarion had pushed Mordred out of the way, waving his hand over Merlin's body, chanting under his breath, out of earshot to the other two.

They watch, again, as Merlin's skin weakly stitched itself back together.

"What's happening to him? Why isn't it healing like it was before?" Gwaine was clearly worried about his friend, so when he wasn't healing anymore, the knight was bound to get nervous and testy. Sarion sighed.

"His body is starting to reject the magic. It has been exposed too many times; it's building up an immunity to this magic."

"Well, why would it do that?" Mordred asked. "I thought bodies only did that with harmful things. This sort of magic isn't harmful."

"Yes, but his body thinks that the magic is trying to alter it. Merlin's body wants to fix itself, and using this spell isn't going to keep him alive for much longer. We _need_ to get to Forel quickly; we need to get there before he dies."

* * *

Sarion had taken the front this time, knowing the terrain better than the other two. There was urgency in the way he rode, and although he was trying to be careful, you could see the cart bouncing around, Mordred holding onto Merlin so that he didn't move so much. It had taken a few hours, but Merlin's wound hadn't reopened and Sarion yelled that they were at the boundary of Forel. Gwaine looked around, and as they passed through, the rocky, grey landscape that they had been surrounded by was replaced.

All around them was green. Lush forests on the left and a beautiful lake and waterfall on the right. the dirt path that the group was walking on had slowly turned to a cobblestone road. The farther they traveled, the more Gwaine and Mordred gawked.

Farms started to appear. Then houses. Then a village. People gathered outside to see what was going on. Whispers of 'that's Sarion!' and 'who are they?' rolled throughout the crowds. The mage gave halfhearted waves and smiles as he hurried to get to the castle.

Oh, the castle! Gwaine thought smugly that it could have rivaled the castle of Camelot. It's turrets and towers raised high into the sky, all pristine and white marble. The bridge went from one island to another, and Mordred thought that he could see the sea on the other side of it. At Sarion's orders, the guards had opened the gates and the traveling party came hastily in through to the courtyard. That in itself was marvelous; magnificent statues and gargoyles, and a grand front door to the interior of the castle.

Sarion jumped off of his horse, yelling for someone to get the High Scholar Caelum. He motioned for Gwaine to pick up Merlin. He did so gently, not wanting to further injure his friend. Mordred followed them at the rear as Sarion led them to the Medical Wing.

Moments after they had entered the castle, an older fellow with grey hair and wrinkles dressed in fine robes, had joined Sarion at the front, and they started whispering furiously. Sarion whispered something and the man's eyes widened and he looked down at Merlin lying in Gwaine's arms.

They reached the Wing, and Gwaine was gestured to lay Merlin down on a bed. Once he was down, the man started to do rapid tests, and the two ex-knights were ushered out of the room. They watched helplessly as the doors closed on their friend.

* * *

Merlin blinked his eyes. Why was it so bright? Where was Arthur? Where was he? Everything came flooding back. Sarion. King. Gwaine. Arthur. Knife.

Black.

He groaned as he opened his eyes, surprised to find a pristine white medical room, medium in size. The clean, clear windows showed green outside, and Merlin briefly wondered if he could see the ocean. There was a sound. He jumped. Sarion came in through the doors, smiling with relief when he saw that Merlin was awake.

"Sarion! Where am I? What happened with Arthur? Where are Gwaine and Mordred?"

"Merlin," the mage said, not unkindly. "Welcome to Forel. Your kingdom."


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin spluttered. Since when did they get to Forel? Sarion, sitting beside him and having pulled up a chair, smiled grimly. In his eyes was a look of worry, as well as amazement and wonder.

“Well, you might remember telling Arthur about all of your… how should I say this?”

“Secrets? Lies? Betrayals?”

“Haha, yes. And you also might remember him stabbing you. After that, Gwaine told me that Arthur had gone into the forest. A few minutes had passed, and your friend was worried about you. He came to me and together we went in to find you on the ground, bleeding out. As I’ve told you before, I’m a battlemage. Healing isn’t my specialty. I closed your wound the best I could, but it didn’t work the most efficiently. Gwaine had gone into the forest after Arthur and threw down his cape, and Mordred came with me to attempt to heal you.”

Sarion rubbed his hands together, as though still trying to unconsciously heal Merlin.

“Gwaine came back, and we decided to tell all of the knights. They took it well and demanded to know if you were all right. We let them come in to see you and they asked some questions. Gwaine, Mordred, and I all tried to answer to the best of our abilities. Arthur came back then and Mordred revealed that he was a druid by setting his cloak on fire. In the morning we left and for two days we rode.”

“Wait, wait, wait! Are you saying that both Gwaine _and_ Modred both quit being knights for Arthur just because he stabbed me?!” Merlin had sat up to the best of his ability, and his eyes were wide. His hands were grasping at his gut, the place where he had gotten stabbed. All that was left was a scar now. _Just another to add to my collection_ , he thought.

“Yes, but you can lecture them about that later. _Anyways_ ,” he dragged the word on and on. “Your wound had reopened thrice, and each time Modred or I had used magic to close it. We had been riding for two days when bandits came. Gwaine and Modred fought valiantly. Modred even felt comfortable enough to use his magic to fight, using both sword and spells. There seemed to be thousands of them, though, and both of your friends had gotten themselves injured. Then all of a sudden there was light. It blinded the bandits, but not us. We looked behind, and you were sitting up and you’d knocked out or killed all of the remaining bandits. Your injury had reopened again, and we tried to heal it. The thing is, we had performed the spell so many times that your body was building up an immunity to the magic. The wound closed, but very feebly. We managed to get you here without any further incidents, and the healers here managed to cure you.” Sarion took a breath, finishing his speech. Merlin just looked at him. They stared at each other.

All of a sudden there was a commotion outside the doors, and the two heard shouts of ‘I heard he’s awake!’ and ‘can we see him?’ and ‘mate, if you don’t get out of the way, I swear-’

The doors opened. Gwaine opened the doors dramatically, (because the author has been reading The Lord of the Rings, and she imagined this like Aragorn in The Two Towers when he opened the doors to get to Théoden after getting to Helm’s Deep,) and he walked in, Mordred following like a shadow but no less eager.

Gwaine’s face broke into a grin when he saw Merlin sitting up on his bed, conversing with Sarion. The two ex-knights ran over to them, ignoring the protests of the people outside. They skidded to a stop next to the bed, and Merlin flashed them a halfhearted smile.

“How are you feeling-”

“God, Merlin, how could you be so _stupid_ -”

“They wouldn’t let us in to see you and-”

“Then we thought, _well maybe something’s happened-_ ”

“Maybe he’s dead-”

“ _Anyways-_ ” they finished together, each taking in a breath for having talked so much. Merlin stared. I now feel as though I’ve written a part for Fred and George.

“Soooo… that was a lot and I don’t know how to respond other than ‘ok, that’s great!’” Sarion chuckled. He waved his hand, muttered, and two chairs drifted over from the other side of the room. Gwaine and Mordred sat down, not taking their eyes off of their friend.

“But really, Merlin, how are you feeling?” Mordred asked.

“Well, I’d have to take a second to think about that because, no offense Sarion, but the moment I woke up, Sarion was right next to me and he dumped a whole lot of information on me about what all happened after Arthur… and I still haven’t really processed anything other than the fact that you two seemed to just, I don’t know, _abandon your knighthoods just because Arthur had stabbed me?_ I mean, seriously! Why?” Mordred and Gwaine stared at him. There was silence in the room, save for the soft padding of feet outside by the servants and people in the castle. Gwaine burst.

“What do you mean, _why did we do it? Are you kidding me, Merlin? For one, you're my only friend- save for Mordred here who I’m beginning to like- and_ also _, what about all of the stuff that you’ve done for me, huh? I only stayed in Camelot because of you! What about all those times I was drunk and injured? Who helped me? After all that you’ve done for me, don’t think for a_ second _that I wouldn’t sacrifice the same amount for you!_ ”

The sentence ended in a fierce shout, and Sarion was sure that the entire East Wing had heard the declaration. Mordred and Merlin stared from their respective seats. Gwaine was breathing heavily. The group almost heard the echoes at the end of the hall.

“You-wow-ok then,” Merlin was blushing slightly. “I mean, when you put it like that, things are kinda put into perspective.” Mordred sat up.

“I would hope that it would, seeing as how Gwaine just yelled his entire life story in the medical section of this castle where a lot of people can hear him.”

“What? No I didn’t!” Modred smirked.

“Yes you did. You mentioned being drunk and injured. That’s all that’s happened to you in your life.”

\--

A day passed. After dinner Merlin had been let go by the medical people, who looked at him with a sort of revered gleam in their eyes. He was moved into a large room, larger than Arthur’s even. Any room he’s ever stayed in before were smaller than this, but then again there weren't very many that were larger than servant’s quarters. There were royal blue curtains and bedding, and everything had a sliver edge.

Merlin found all the blue to be a little disorienting, but it only took a few minutes for him to get used to it. The wardrobe was filled with extravagant clothing, fit for a prince, or even a king. He had half a mind to go and look at the rest of the room, but the bed was calling to him. Merlin took off his outer clothing and slowly sunk into the bed.

He marveled at the soft sheets, and there were more pillows than he knew what to do with. Most of them ended up on the floor, kicked off by his feet to give his body some space. The mattress was better than anything he had slept on before, and Merlin’s last thought before he went to sleep was that if all else failed, this bed alone might be worth all the trouble.

\--

Merlin sleepily opened his eyes. It was still dark, but the first birds were starting to sing, and over the horizon, he could see the sun slowly creeping up, preparing to overtake the darkness.

Forsaking habit, Merlin lay in bed for a while longer. Soon enough, the sun was up and there was a symphony of birds outside. He had almost fallen back asleep when suddenly his door burst open and in came a girl in the common servants’ uniform, carrying several plates and trays with food. Her mousy brown hair was sticking up all over the place.

“I’m so sorry that I’m late, my lord!” She said, haphazardly setting the plates on a nearby table. After arranging them, she fell into the back of the room, bowing her head and clasping her hands behind her back in the classic image of subservience.

Merlin stared at her.

“My lord?” She slowly lifted her head, as if expecting to be reprimanded for doing so.

“What are you doing here?” Merlin blurted. The servant lifted her head up all the way, confused at the question.

“Well, I was tasked with bringing you breakfast, sire. And I have a message for you from Sir Sarion.” She fumbled around in her skirts until she found her pocket and she pulled out a rolled letter. Merlin was awake now, and seemed to understand why she was here. He pulled himself out of bed, and while the servant was managing the food he made his way over to her.

She turned back around, holding some bread and meat in her hands. She was shocked to see Merlin so close to her and she stumbled, falling onto Merlin and bringing them both down, the food raining above them. They rolled around on the floor, trying to get off.

“Oh, my apologies, my lord! I just can’t seem to do anything right today!” She nearly wailed. Merlin stopped struggling and scooched over to the servant who was sitting next to the wall. He put a hand on her shoulder; she flinched.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s not your fault. I shouldn't've startled you like that. Here, we haven’t been introduced. My name is Merlin. What’s yours?” The girl stared at him. _I guess she wasn’t expecting me to ask her name. Huh._

“It-it’s Tornia, my lord.”

“Well, Tornia, I am terribly sorry that I startled you, and if you get any grief just tell them to come to me about it. And you don’t have to use any titles with me, if you’d like.” She stared at Merlin some more. He got up, and outstretched his hand, offering it to her. Tornia cautiously took it and she came off of the floor.

“Thank you, my l- Merlin.” She said shyly. Tornia yelped, and hurried to give the forgotten letter to Merlin. With that, she walked to the door, gave a hasty bow to Merlin, and left the room. It was quiet once more. Merlin looked at the letter in his hand, and opened it.

 _Merlin-_ it said in a neat cursive. _First of all, good morning. I hope that your first day in Forel- officially, anyways- has gone well so far. I have sent this letter with Tornia, and do not give her any grief if she forgets something. She has a moderate memory loss that no one can seem to cure. Once you have eaten breakfast, feel free to bathe and dress; you may use the clothes that are in the wardrobe of your room. I should have told you this, but it must have slipped my mind; if you are to claim your spot as king, then you must gain the support of at least half of the council. You are going to meet them today, and make your claim. There is one member of the court vying for the throne, but his claim is illegitimate. You have a much better chance of gaining the trust of the council then him. Anyway, after you are cleaned up, I will be waiting at your door at ten o’clock._

_Yours, Sir Sarion_

_First-Rate Mage of Forel_

_Advisor to the King_

Merlin read the paper twice. So apparently now he had to compete for the throne that he never really wanted in the first place. Well, that was nice. He shook his head. Merlin had come to save this kingdom; he couldn’t back out now.

He ate in silence. Afterwards, he had gone to the tub, and seeing that it was empty, Merlin went to the door to call for someone to fill it. A wonderful thought ran through his mind. He closed the door. Merlin went back over to the tub, and said cautiously but confidently, “ _Brimstréam_.”

A large jet of water streamed out and into the tub. It filled quickly, and Merlin muttered another spell to warm it to his liking. After feeling the temperature, he started giggling. The fact that he had just used magic in Forel was one thing, but the fact that it was _okay_ was freeing. There was no other feeling like it.

He stripped out of his remaining clothing and sunk into the water. Merlin nearly groaned. Four days of sweat, tears, grime, and blood that the medical people hadn’t washed was now gone, and Merlin felt like a new human being. He could’ve stayed in the tub for hours, but he could savor the feeling later. He washed himself, using the abundant soaps and concoctions at his hand.

Merlin got out of the tub, drying himself with another spell, smiling. He went to the dresser, and started to rummage through it. Most of the clothes were too fancy for his taste, but in the end he had picked out a nice forest green shirt, softer than anything else he had ever worn. Merlin picked out some simple black trousers, and although they were a little large around the waist, that was nothing a belt couldn’t fix.

Merlin had kept his own shoes, seeing as they were comfortable and not terrible quality. He had half a mind to put his neckerchief on, for without it he felt exposed and vulnerable, but something in his gut told him not to.

The bell rang ten. Merlin took a breath, smiling still, and opened the door to see Sarion, as promised, standing outside. He took notice of Merlin’s smile and gave him a curious look.

“ _Magic, Sarion! Magic!_ ” Was all Merlin said, and Sarion smiled too at the thought. They walked along the hallways, and Merlin took to memorizing this new layout.

“So, I am terribly sorry for not telling you about your competitor, but I’m afraid there were more pressing matters at hand to inform you about. When we get to the council room, I will go in first, to introduce you, then I will come back out and you will walk in with me.”

Merlin’s face had soured slightly, but he still went on walking as Sarion led him outside. Merlin, not having seen it when he first arrived, spun around in awe. To his right was farmland and forests in the distance. To his left was the ocean, shimmering a beautiful cerulean against the sun's rays. If he looked behind Merlin swore that the castle had been built right next to the tallest mountains he'd ever seen, the tips of the peaks stretching way into the sky.

Merlin smiled, and as they rounded the sides of the castle he could see that part of the structure overhung the cliff face, looming out over the sea. He saw sandy white beaches below, and several people were there, lounging on the soft particles and playing in the waves. The castle stood high above them, offering shade for anyone who wanted it under it's glistening white stone.

More walking ensued. Soon enough Sarion told Merlin to stop. They stood in the middle of an open plain, no signs of manmade structures nearby.

"Alright, Merlin. I am going to speak with the council, and then after I introduce you I will come back and led you to them. Some of them are a tough crowd, so it's probably best if you keep a straight face." Merlin hesitantly nodded. Sarion walked forward, in front of Merlin.

Until he wasn't.

Sarion had vanished into thin air. Merlin had gasped at the obvious use of magic, not yet used to seeing it so openly.

What seemed like hours passed.

Sarion was still nowhere to be seen.

Until he was standing in front of Merlin.

"Alright, my boy. Time to go and face the council." He patted Merlin on the shoulder and led him forward, giving Merlin just enough time to steel his face. And then he felt nothing as they passed some sort of barrier. Until he felt it.

 _Magic_.


	6. A/N Please Read

Hello! I am so sorry that I haven't updated this for like three weeks! I moved about a week ago and these past few days I've been feeling under the weather. But in more positive news, I will be trying to keep a schedule for when I post new chapters so you can/should expect a new chapter to be posted over the weekend usually. Also I will be rewriting the last third of Chapter 5 and that should be reposted today or tomorrow. I would suggest going to read that if you'd like one of the next chapters in this story to make a little more sense! Lastly, just as a side thing I might be posting an Olympics!Merlin fic while I am writing the next chapter of this- 1. because in my (un)professional opinion there are not enough of those exposed to the world, and B. because if you'd like to read something while waiting for this next chapter, then you can. So today or tomorrow I would really appreciate it if you could go and check that one out when I post it! Thank you! The next chapter of this story should be out by the end of the week!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally I'm posting something. Sorry for the wait and I hope this isn't too bad seeing as I'm kinda uninspired rn...

They rode in silence. The usual quiet padding of three extra horses was lost and the difference it seemingly made was staggering. No words were spoken to Arthur by the knights until they reached Camelot, and even then the sentences were few and far between. Gwen noticed.

"Arthur," she said in their chambers the afternoon they got back. "Why are the knights giving you the cold shoulder? And where's Merlin and Gwaine and Mordred?" Arthur's face had been a stone mask ever since they got back, showing no emotion unless absolutely necessary. Now, however, the dam seemed to break and all the pent up emotions of the last few days were released.

"I don't understand! How could he, the _bastard traitor?_ How, Gwen? And those two imbeciles just up and left with him and that filthy sorcerer!" Arthur moved to the end of the bed, sitting down and putting his head in his hands. Gwen, worried and confused, moved to sit beside him.

"Who, Arthur? Who is a traitor?"

"Merlin! He has _magic_ , Gwen!"

"W-what?"

"Magic, Gwen! Merlin has magic and has used it under my nose for years! And then he went with that filthy sorcerer to some magical kingdom with Gwaine and Mordred! He _stole_ two of my best knights! Laying on that cart lie the scum he is!" Arthur huffed. Gwen was still shocked, but recovered quickly and looked at her husband, an inkling of what happened starting to form in her mind.

"Why was he laying in a cart, Arthur?" Arthur stilled, like the calm before the storm.

Then he blew up.

"BECAUSE I STABBED HIM, GWEN! BECAUSE I STABBED HIM IN THE STOMACH!"

* * *

Silence crowded the king's chambers. Gwen looked pale. Arthur was red in the face from his ranting, and by the looks of it he wasn't finished but was just out of breath. Gwen stood up, smoothing the layers of her gown before turning to face Arthur, her expression a mask. She motioned for him to stand up beside her, and he compiled.

"Thank the gods you feel the same way-" he was cut off by a resounding smack that filled the silence of the chambers. _What? Did Guinevere just... smack me?_

"There are times, Arthur Pendragon," she said, not fazed by anything he had said seemingly. Her voice was chill and icy in a way that Arthur had never heard before. "That you are correct about a great many things. But in this instance you have _never_ been more wrong. I do not feel the same way in the slightest. And what you did was wrong, although you are such a _prat..._ such an _idiot_ that you cannot see that." She turned and stalked out of the room, thus ending her speech. The door could not have closed quieter, but to Arthur no amount of door slamming could have carried the same weight that it did.

* * *

Most people in the castle were shocked at seeing the queen in her servants dress again and walking directly into the physician's room. Gaius, too, was surprised.

"Your majesty! May I ask what you are doing here?" Gwen held up a hand to his face, sinking into one of the chairs in the room in a very un-queenly way.

"Please, Gaius, I just want to be Gwen right now. Why did Merlin come to Camelot if he had magic?" Gaius spluttered, almost dropping his vials that he held in his hands.

"What?"

"Merlin and his magic, Gaius. I wish to know everything and then I will tell you what I just found out." The royal physician looked pained for a moment, but seemed to realize that he was talking to his queen before sighing. He sat his vials down on a stand before dragging a chair across from Gwen. He sat down.

"I must tell you that Merlin never meant to do the things that he did when he first came here..." and thus he began the unfinished tale of the greatest sorcerer to ever walk the earth.

Gwen sat back. It had taken nearly three hours, plus a snack break, for Gaius to tell Gwen everything that had happened to Merlin in the past few years.

"Oh... dear Merlin... you deserved none of that..." Gaius sat forward, suddenly eager.

"Guinevere, you said that you would tell me what you had found out... what was it?" She sat back. She started fiddling with her hands.

"First of all, I think that I should tell you that I'm wearing my servant's clothes because I'm boycotting Arthur and his fancy... _shit,_ " the physician gasped at hearing his queen swear. "Second, from what I've been told and what I've seen, the knights are giving Arthur the cold shoulder. Gwaine, Mordred, and Merlin didn't come back from the meeting with the dragon. Arthur exploded in our chambers, going on and on about the traitor. He then told me that Merlin had magic. That Merlin had gone away with Mordred and Gwaine with a sorcerer to a magical kingdom. That Merlin was laying in a cart on the way there 'like the scum he is.' I asked him why Merlin was in a cart, because it didn't seem right that he would ride in a cart while other people were on a horse. Then Arthur said that he was in the cart because he had stabbed Merlin in the stomach." Gaius stayed quiet throughout the whole thing. Until the last sentence.

"Oh, Merlin, my boy..." he put his head in his hands, looking the epitome of despair. Gwen heard him muttering under his breath. "He must have met Sarion... he must have taken him to Forel..."

"What?" Gaius looked up at Gwen. He got up out of his chair and started rummaging around in his piles of books whilst explaining to Gwen.

"From what you've told me, there was no dragon. I'm guessing that the three people who came to court were druid decoys to lead Merlin to the woods. Him and the knights must have met Sarion, who is a sorcerer and First-rate Mage of Forel. Basically Sir Leon's job, except magic. Forel," he put a book in front of Gwen. On the page was a faded picture of a beautiful kingdom on one side, and a list of information on the other. "was one of the only kingdoms that accepted magic still, even during the purge. It is an amazing kingdom, much like Camelot, except it thrives because of magic. It is where I grew up; Sarion was one of my closest friends before I left for Camelot. Sarion must have taken Merlin there with Mordred and Gwaine. If the injury was as bad as you say it supposedly was, then Sarion would not be able to heal it. He is not a Curer, but a battlemage. They must have gotten to Forel quickly if Merlin was to survive." They stayed that way, talking about Merlin and Arthur and what they were going to do for the rest of the night; Gwen had no qualms about borrowing Merlin's bed for the night.

* * *

Three days passed. Gwen had still not returned to Arthur; instead she had taken to working with her fellow servants again, seeming right at home. She conversed with the maids and the cooks and everyone else. She quietly spread the word about what Arthur had done to Merlin, though not telling the exact reason, telling people to make absolutely sure that no word of this reached the king's ears. She avoided Arthur whenever he was in sight.

On the afternoon of the third day, when Gaius presumed that Merlin and the others ha gotten to Forel, a council meeting was called. The lords of the court had gotten word of what happened, and they were quietly talking about it when Arthur marched into the hall, and talking was silenced. Arthur looked to the front, where he and Gwen sat, but his queen was nowhere to be found. Secretly the lords had pardoned her from the day's meeting.

Arthur, the epitome of grace and stoniness, walked right up to his chair, his face cold until his eyes briefly met Gaius'. Arthur nearly shit his pants at the intensity of The Eyebrow that he was getting. He nearly stumbled on his last stride, if it were not for pure will not to.

The council ran smoothly enough, no one daring to mention anything about the happenings of the last three days.

* * *

The third day, Gwen met up with Lancelot, who had been injured recently and therefore could not have gone to the 'dragon.' She filled him in on everything that had happened. He was uncharacteristically furious at Arthur. After hearing what had happened to his friend, he got packed as soon as he could, demanding Gaius to tell him how to get to Forel. The physician reluctantly gave in, muttering about 'reckless youths who are going to get themselves killed one day.' Lancelot left. Nothing changed. Arthur was still furious, especially after getting a red cloak delivered to his door the day after one of his best knights mysteriously left. The knights still were stone cold. Gaius still gave The Eyebrow whenever he could. And most importantly, Gwen still boycotted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically the entire castle at this point is against Arthur for right now at least, because everyone loves merlin and they couldn't believe that their king had stabbed him. sorry for any editing mistakes, seeing as im too tired to do any of that shit right now.


	8. Another A/N

Hello! Sorry for once again not updating in a while... this chapter is really just to say that I am taking a small break from writing. I haven’t really been in the greatest mindset to write lately and probably won’t be in the near future seeing as I’m getting surgery tomorrow... I am planning on coming back to this eventually but right now I have absolutely no motivation to write. So sorry and I will try to get back to the writing mindset as soon as possible!! Thanks for all the kudos and comments, they’ve been much appreciated!


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